penetrated her subconscious because she went completely motionless. Even though she’d stopped rubbing her bottom against him, the heat from her soft body and her flowery scent kept him too charged up to fall asleep despite the tranquilizing effect of the booze.
So the thousand dollar question was should he stay in bed with her and suffer the incessant ache in his dick, or get up and toss and turn on the torturous couch?
As she wiggled again, he gritted his teeth at the incredible pressure in his lower half. There was absolutely no question about it. Spending the night pressed against Maggie’s sweet-smelling softness won hands down—even if he did explode.
Chapter 6
“Someone answer the damn phone!” Howard Carmichael hoisted himself off the toilet and dragged his pants up as he waddled out of the bathroom. “Debbie! Kevin! Where the hell are you two?” He snatched the receiver off the kitchen wall and then wandered through the house, searching for his wife as he barked into the cordless phone, “Hullo.”
“Dad!” Phil blurted in his ear. “You’re not gonna believe what I just heard from Brandy.”
“Yeah, what?” It had better be good, seeing as his son had just interrupted Howard’s first healthy dump in a week.
“Asshole Manion knocked up a girl in my Marriage and Family class.”
“The coach screwed a student?” This was good. He rubbed his grinding gut. Really good.
“Not the coach ,” Phil corrected, “asshole Alex. He’s been doin’ Emma Bradford.”
“Oh.” Howard sighed his disappointment and kicked one of his daughter Catie’s dolls out of his way. He’d heard Jake’s son was dating that Bradford bitch’s daughter. The news wasn’t quite as juicy as Hotshot Manion diddling some teenybopper. Nonetheless, hearing his son had gotten a classmate in trouble was nearly as good—especially seeing who the girl’s mother was.
It would be sweet justice to watch both her and that jerk-off get knocked on their asses. Margie Bradford would think twice before she publicly humiliated a successful chiropractor like Howard again.
Maybe there was a way he could use this information to get rid of Manion. If he was given the chance to coach Kevin next year, the son of a bitch would undoubtedly shortchange Howard’s younger son the same way he had Phil.
“Why do you always do that, Dad?” Phil asked in a wounded tone. “Every time I tell you something I think will make your day, you—”
“Sorry, Pal. I didn’t mean to burst your bubble. This is great news. If all goes well, I’ll finally be able to nail that bastard to the wall. That is....if you’ll do me a favor on Monday.”
“Like what?” The trepidation in Phil’s question indicated he hadn’t forgotten the backlash after he’d loosened the screws on Alex’s desk chair to keep his teammate from playing.
A whole lot of good it had done. That bastard, Jake, had only given Phil ten minutes of game time before the scouts got there, and then he’d yanked Howard’s son all because of a couple of incomplete passes.
When Howard’s wife found out he’d encouraged his son to sabotage his rival, it had nearly ended his marriage—especially after Debbie heard the rumors about Howard putting the moves on Kevin’s snooty reading teacher.
But hell, he’d been pissed off at his wife and hadn’t gotten laid in two months. It had taken a diamond tennis bracelet and a boatload of groveling to convince Debbie to patch things up and bring their three-year-old daughter back home.
“Don’t worry, Son. It’s nothing like last fall,” Howard assured his son. “I just need you to plant something in Coach Manion’s classroom.”
“You got some kind of phony evidence to frame him?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Not after Debbie’s reaction last go-round. “Still, don’t say anything to your mother. With your help, I’m hoping to get something legit I can use. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that prick get
So the thousand dollar question was should he stay in bed with her and suffer the incessant ache in his dick, or get up and toss and turn on the torturous couch?
As she wiggled again, he gritted his teeth at the incredible pressure in his lower half. There was absolutely no question about it. Spending the night pressed against Maggie’s sweet-smelling softness won hands down—even if he did explode.
Chapter 6
“Someone answer the damn phone!” Howard Carmichael hoisted himself off the toilet and dragged his pants up as he waddled out of the bathroom. “Debbie! Kevin! Where the hell are you two?” He snatched the receiver off the kitchen wall and then wandered through the house, searching for his wife as he barked into the cordless phone, “Hullo.”
“Dad!” Phil blurted in his ear. “You’re not gonna believe what I just heard from Brandy.”
“Yeah, what?” It had better be good, seeing as his son had just interrupted Howard’s first healthy dump in a week.
“Asshole Manion knocked up a girl in my Marriage and Family class.”
“The coach screwed a student?” This was good. He rubbed his grinding gut. Really good.
“Not the coach ,” Phil corrected, “asshole Alex. He’s been doin’ Emma Bradford.”
“Oh.” Howard sighed his disappointment and kicked one of his daughter Catie’s dolls out of his way. He’d heard Jake’s son was dating that Bradford bitch’s daughter. The news wasn’t quite as juicy as Hotshot Manion diddling some teenybopper. Nonetheless, hearing his son had gotten a classmate in trouble was nearly as good—especially seeing who the girl’s mother was.
It would be sweet justice to watch both her and that jerk-off get knocked on their asses. Margie Bradford would think twice before she publicly humiliated a successful chiropractor like Howard again.
Maybe there was a way he could use this information to get rid of Manion. If he was given the chance to coach Kevin next year, the son of a bitch would undoubtedly shortchange Howard’s younger son the same way he had Phil.
“Why do you always do that, Dad?” Phil asked in a wounded tone. “Every time I tell you something I think will make your day, you—”
“Sorry, Pal. I didn’t mean to burst your bubble. This is great news. If all goes well, I’ll finally be able to nail that bastard to the wall. That is....if you’ll do me a favor on Monday.”
“Like what?” The trepidation in Phil’s question indicated he hadn’t forgotten the backlash after he’d loosened the screws on Alex’s desk chair to keep his teammate from playing.
A whole lot of good it had done. That bastard, Jake, had only given Phil ten minutes of game time before the scouts got there, and then he’d yanked Howard’s son all because of a couple of incomplete passes.
When Howard’s wife found out he’d encouraged his son to sabotage his rival, it had nearly ended his marriage—especially after Debbie heard the rumors about Howard putting the moves on Kevin’s snooty reading teacher.
But hell, he’d been pissed off at his wife and hadn’t gotten laid in two months. It had taken a diamond tennis bracelet and a boatload of groveling to convince Debbie to patch things up and bring their three-year-old daughter back home.
“Don’t worry, Son. It’s nothing like last fall,” Howard assured his son. “I just need you to plant something in Coach Manion’s classroom.”
“You got some kind of phony evidence to frame him?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.” Not after Debbie’s reaction last go-round. “Still, don’t say anything to your mother. With your help, I’m hoping to get something legit I can use. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that prick get
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